Angels on Our Shoulders
by lap1997
Summary: The year is 1945. The Neuroi have swarmed across the Rhine, surrounding Bastogne and cutting off the 6th Fallschirmjager Regiment. The only thing standing between the Fallschirmjagers and death are the witches of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing. Can the Fallschirmjagers hold on, or will they be wiped out?
1. Chapter 1

Hey there everyone. I'm back, after a while of doing nothing. This is my first Strike Witches fanfic. I hope you enjoy. I do not own Strike Witches!

German translations:

_Fallschirmjagers/Paratrooper; Oberfeldwebel/Master Sergeant; Feldwebel/Sergeant; Engel der Nacht/Angel of the Night; Ja/Yes; Panzer Faust/Bazooka; Oberjager/Corporal; Jager/Private; Leutnant/Lieutenant; Herr/Sir_

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**Saturday, December 03, 2243 hours, in the woods north of Bastogne:**

A pair of witches soared over head at tree top level. They were silhouetted by the moon, and the starlight shone off of their Striker Units. The witches continued straight for a while, then banked right, heading south, the sound of their magic engines waking a sleeping Karlsland _Feldwebel_.

"It's her" the man sitting next to him, an _Oberfeldwebel_, said. The two men sat in a foxhole in the Ardennes, the frozen ground continuously sucking the warmth from their bodies.

_Feldwebel_ Hans Stohr smiled. "By her, I assume you mean our _Engel der Nacht_" Stohr said, looking up and trying to spot said witch.

"_Ja_" _Oberfeldwebel_ Erich Horst, a tall man, about six foot three, with blonde hair and bright green eyes responded. He gave off a commanding presence, even while sitting down, and his size made him rather intimidating. The _Oberfeldwebel_ was twenty-eight, old in comparison to the band of replacements he was leading, who were no more than boys. He wore a gray overcoat, which was torn and dirty. A scratched and dented M38 _Fallschirmjager_ helmet sat on his head. He cradled a StG-44 assault rifle, loaded with one thirty round clip, with four more in a pouch on his left hip. He also had a map case on his left hip, a hard shell holster holding a Walther P-38 pistol on his right hip, and a standard K-98 rifle bayonet, also on his right hip.

"And look at that, tonight she has a friend. Good for her" Hans said, looking back down and closing his eyes. Hans was shorter than his friend, standing at five foot eight, with black hair and blue eyes. Hans was talkative, friendly, and older than Erich by one year. He had studied at the University of Jena, and because of this had been nicknamed "Professor". He sported an MP-40 submachine gun and did not have a map case. Other than that, he had the same equipment as the _Oberfeldwebel_. The two men slipped into a comfortable silence, as the night carried on.

It had been two weeks since the Neuroi had swarmed over the Rhine and pushed into the Ardennes. The 3rd _Panzer_ Division had been decimated and forced to pull back. The 6th _Fallschirmjager_ Regiment had been quickly placed into the gap to reinforce the line, but the damage had been done.

The Neuroi encircled Bastogne and the _Fallschirmjagers_, cutting them off. Since then, Erich and Hans had cheated death on a number of occasions.

The closest they had been to death had been last night. Erich had been on patrol with Hans and eight other men. They had been steadily making their way back to their positions when several Neuroi tanks ambushed them. Caught out in the open, Erich ordered his men to retreat, when a beam struck the ground a meter in front of him. The force of the blast knocked him off his feet, and he would have died, if not for Hans and _Oberjager_ Karsten Dornefeld dragging him to safety. Erich had lost seven men in that ambush, which meant that he only had twenty men left in a platoon that originally had forty-two.

"You should rest. I'll take watch for you" Hans said.

"I'll sleep later" Erich responded, keeping his eyes focused on the clearing that marked the line between the Neuroi and the _Fallschirmjagers_.

Hans shook his head, then said "At least let me take watch".

Erich looked at him, then nodded. "Fine. I think I'll go check on our young rabbits" he said, climbing out of the foxhole and stretching. Hans shifted himself so he could keep an eye on the clearing and the woods beyond. Erich began walking along the edge of the trees, taking long, leisurely strides, assault rifle slung over his shoulder, arms swinging freely. He stopped and looked up at the sky as he heard the sound of magical engines.

The two witches were flying over again, and the one the _Fallschirmjagers_ affectionately called "_Engel der Nacht_" spotted him. She had short gray hair, green eyes, and pale skin, as far as Erich could tell. On her left shoulder rested a large weapon, similar to a _Panzer Faust_, and she wore a thick coat and a red scarf. From her head sprouted small black cat ears, and a black tail poked out from under her coat. Her strikers were black, with an Orussian star painted on the sides. He saw her smile, then wave at him with her free hand.

Her friend, a girl with long, almost white hair, violet eyes, and a black foxes ears and tail, waved at him as well. Erich smiled and waved back at the girls, then turned and walked towards _Oberjager_ Dornefeld and _Jager_ Klaus Eckolt's foxhole.

'They shouldn't be fighting in this war. They're just kids' Erich thought as he approached the two young men, who, at the moment, were talking about their lives before the war. 'Kids, just like these two, and every other soldier under my command. Just like the ones I couldn't save' he thought with regret.

Erich paused and scowled 'No! It was their time. And when it's my time, it won't matter how fast I run, it'll be my time' he thought. He had picked up that phrase from his father, and had used it ever since the war had started.

His father, Wilhelm Horst, had been a _Leutnant_ in the First Neuroi War. He had lost his left arm during the battle of Verdun, cut off by a flying chunk of an exploding tank. Erich knew that his father's words were true, yet he still felt guilty for the loss of his men.

Erich continued forward, the snow crunching under his boots, putting the thoughts of death to the back of his mind, as he came into earshot of the two young soldiers.

"And her father was absolutely furious. He said 'If I ever catch you even looking at my daughter again, I will hit you so hard, when you come to you're going to need a new haircut!'" Karsten said, while Klaus laughed uncontrollably.

"He… he said that?" Klaus asked, gasping for breath.

Karsten smiled widely and replied "_Ja_".

"So what did you do after that?" Klaus asked.

Karsten chuckled, "We both agreed to never try it again within a kilometer of her parents".

Klaus began laughing again, almost on the verge of tears.

Erich squatted down next to them and said, "Learn from his mistake Klaus. Never, and I mean never…"

"_Ja, ja_, I'll be sure to keep my sidearm holstered until I'm married, _Herr Oberfeldwebel_" Klaus interrupted Erich.

Erich smiled, and pushed the eighteen year olds helmet forward so it covered his eyes. "Good boy. Now, Karsten," Erich said, looking at the twenty-three year old, "start from the beginning. This sounds like a very interesting story".

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This will be a multi chapter story. Not quite sure how long yet. Love it, hate it, leave a review. lap1997


	2. Chapter 2

Hey there people, I'm back. Wow, second chapter already. I'm as amazed as you are. This one is from Eila's pov. It's also a bit shorter than the last chapter. Anyways, enjoy. I do not own Strike Witches!

German Translation:_Bitte helft mir/Help me, please; Ich will nicht sterben/I don't want to die_

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The two witches soared through the sky at tree top level, one humming a song, the other silently listening. Flying Officer Eila Illmatar Juutilainen turned to look at her partner, Flying Officer Sanya V. Litvyak, who had a faraway look in her emerald green eyes. Sanya's gray hair and black ears waved in the breeze, her tail swaying back and forth.

Eila just stared in awe at her beauty, before snapping herself out of it. 'Stop that!' she scolded herself, 'You're on a mission.' Eila switched her MG42 from her right hand to her left, then brought up her right arm and checked her watch.

'2247 hours. That means we have three minutes until the operation starts' she thought, looking up at the stars. Operation Round hammer was the plan to free the trapped Karlsland troops on the ground.

The 23rd Panzer Division, along with elements of the 1st Panzer Division, were going to attack from the west, and push the Neuroi back to the Rhine. The 501st's job was to provide support for the soldiers. Eila and Sanya had been given the task of protecting the surrounded 6th _Fallschirmjager_ Regiment, as the Neuroi would likely launch an attack once they realize what was going on.

"Did he look sad to you?" Sanya asked suddenly, catching Eila off guard.

"Huh? Who?" Eila asked, shifting her MG42 back to her right hand.

"The soldier we waved at, remember" Sanya replied, looking into Eila's violet eyes.

"Oh, right him" Eila said, remembering the tall soldier, thinking about it. They had spotted the soldier while he stood next to a tree on the edge of the clearing. She tried to remember his eyes. They had seemed kind of sad, the smile on his face not quite reaching them.

She nodded, "Now that you mention it, yeah, he did". Sanya looked away, staring at the trees rushing by beneath them.

"I've seen him before, but this was the first time I've seen his face" she said flying lower, just skimming the trees.

"Does this have anything to do with last night?" Eila asked, her voice filled with concern.

Sanya nodded, and said "He was there" and Eila began to understand.

Last night, Sanya had heard a skirmish taking place not far from their current position. Sanya had flown as fast as she could, but when she got there, it was already over. She had spotted three retreating forms, but had continued to where she had heard the fighting take place.

Seven soldiers had been on the ground in a small clearing. Six of them were dead, but one was still alive, desperately trying to crawl back to the woods. When he heard Sanya flying overhead, he had rolled over onto his back, his stomach a bloody mess.

He had begun to reach out with one hand, calling to her saying "_Bitte helft mir_". So Sanya had gone against regulations and flown down to hover in the clearing next to the soldier.

As she got closer, she could see that he was very young, only a few years older than herself. He was crying, his sobs wrenching at her heart. She had landed, and sat with the young man, holding his hand and stroking his hair, as he repeated over and over "_Ich will nicht sterben, ich will nicht sterben"_.

After a few minutes, he stopped crying.

She had left him lying there, his dark red blood a sharp contrast with the bright white snow, and flew back to base, trying to hold back her own desperate sobs that threatened to burst forth.

When she had stumbled into her and Eila's room, she had collapsed on the bed and dissolved into tears. Eila comforted her until she fell asleep. In war, people die, and everyone in the 501st knew that. But at the same time, Eila knew that Sanya had never actually witnessed someone die.

"Sanya, I told you, that wasn't your fault" Eila said, placing a hand on Sanya's shoulder and gently squeezing.

Sanya didn't say anything, she just nodded her head. Eila rubbed her back for a minute, then checked her watch again.

"Come on, it's time to start" Eila said.

"Okay" Sanya replied quietly, before they both turned around and headed back the way they came, holding hands the whole way.

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Love it, hate it, leave a review. lap1997


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